


Custos Eius

by honeyofangel2



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Coming of Age, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Grooming, Holden Caulfield Syndrome, Idealism, Irony, Manipulation, Obsession, Pining, Slow Burn, begins at age thirteen, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22818373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyofangel2/pseuds/honeyofangel2
Summary: Arthur encounters his recent neighbor and his fondness of her purity possesses him to protect her from ever soiling it.
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/Original Female Character(s), Arthur Fleck/You, Joker/Original Female Character(s), Joker/You
Comments: 14
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's first encounter with her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some very important pre-reading notes!  
> 1\. this story functions with the presumption that the reader already knows who Arthur is, because you do! i didn’t want to waste any time telling you what you already know <3  
> 2\. in case it is confusing to you, i have been writing in a fractured consecutive structure. hopefully it isn't too difficult to track the undated entries and place them contemporaneously.  
> 3\. i don’t like writing with “you/your” and “(y/n)” so “Melanie” is a placeholder for your name! i hope this doesn’t disturb your personal reading pace. please comment below if using “(y/n)” is perhaps more comfortable.  
> 4\. you have read the tags. this story is going to develop into something extremely disturbing and controversial. please understand i am not approaching this with ignorance. much of this reflects personal experience, and writing about it helps me process it. i wanted to explore the potential path Arthur’s relationship with sex could take him!
    
    
      **February 24th, 1977**
    
    
    
    
    
    
    There was a pink cast over Gotham that night.
    
    
    
    
    
    The clouds in the sky stretched over the city like a simple cotton sheet lit dimly from behind. Melanie’s eyes darted between street signs, car plates, potholes, and people. Her eyelashes, frostbitten, peaked up from over her wool scarf, following every movement with equal affection. The people are dolls, and the buildings play-sets, and the gradual snowfall is the push and pull of a capable child’s careful decision, shaping the next act of their never-ending story... all obscured beneath this simple cotton sheet.
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    Thirteen seemed like a good time to start over, it is a milestone after all. She became a teenager, and knowing this gave her the placebo of knowing a lot more _stuff_ than she did before. 
    
    
    
    
    
    “You can carry five pounds up the stairs, can’t you pumpkin?”
    
    
    
    
    
    “Of course,” she huffed, in response to her father. He dropped a tall box in her arms and cocked his head in some diagonal direction. “That way,” he said.  
    
    Picking up his own set of boxes, the pair walked side by side towards the entrance to their new downtown apartment.
    
    
    
    
    
    —
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    “Are you eleven, are you twelve, are you thirteen—“
    
    
    
    
    
    “Stop!”
    
    
    
    
    
    The laughter of one and the dramatic blowing of another were the only sounds in the room. A cosmic brownie with a single candle, now issuing a thread of smoke, sat in the middle of the plate in front of them. Melanie did the honours of plucking the candle out and splitting the brownie for her and her father to share. 
    
    
    
    
    
    “I think unpacking kitchen stuff first was a good call,” he said. “How come?” Melanie replied, her treat half-chewed in her mouth. “Because preparing a treat is the most I can do for my birthday girl on moving day,” her father said, his mouth stretching into a defeated pout. Melanie smiled politely. “It’s cool, pa. I promise. I don’t need any of that other stuff you know, that makes my birthday... a big deal, I suppose...” She was finished chewing by now. 
    
    
    
    
    
    Her father smiled, and Melanie caught the timid glint of a tear forming in the inner corner of his eye. 
    
    
    
    
    
    She understood that moving to the city was a big step. The job opportunities were uninviting by description but plentiful in quantity. He could support the two of them easily without her grandmother’s health dependent on most of each paycheque. 
    
    
    
    
    
    Her mother was gone before Melanie knew her, so her father played both roles. Her grandparents were in-and-out, as most grandparents are, but entirely _in_ when their health began to falter. 
    
    
    
    
    
    It was him and Melanie, now. He would try his best to support her.
    
    
    
    
    
    —
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    Melanie’s father took on an engineering job, taking up to twelve hours a day each five days a week. He had Thursdays and Fridays off to spend with Melanie, after her day at school of course, usually visiting the cafe-diner around the corner for dinner or heating up two Hungry-Mans to eat in front of the television.
    
    
    
    
    
    The apartment grew homier throughout the month, but Melanie still felt estranged from the kids at her school. Joining the class at the start of the second semester made for an awkward fit, especially since it was the tail end of middle school. It gave her an excuse to study hard, though—immerse herself in books, film, perhaps become even closer to her father. 
    
    
    
    
    
    —
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
      **March 26th, 1977**
    
    
    
    
    
    The first time Arthur saw her was on this proper Saturday evening.
    
    
    
    
    
    After giving her father a call, secure with his permission, Melanie went to a midday screening of _Eraserhead_. She went alone, the cinema being a couple of stops away on the train. 
    
    
    
    
    
    Between the last two stations, Melanie dug her hands into the front pockets of her pinafore. She felt her wallet in the left one, but no keys in either one. How could she forget them? Her father would not be home until late. She began to think, though, certainly, that time would coordinate an encounter with a friendly neighbour. Surely, they would be kind enough to let a little girl inside before sunset. 
    
    
    
    
    
    As she walked towards the door, a tall, waifish figure met her from around the street corner. Looking straight ahead at nothing, Arthur almost knocked into her. 
    
    
    
    
    
    Melanie was startled by their near collide, but she was unprepared for his unconventional reaction to it.
    
    
    
    
    
    A stifled laugh rose from Arthur’s mouth, gurgling painfully as his eyes squeezed shut. He held his neck in both his hands, taking deep breaths in between each burst. 
    
    
    
    
    
    Melanie stood silently, stunned, and a bit afraid.
    
    
    
    
    
    Arthur contained himself shortly, wiping his face, apologizing persistently as he handed his medical card to her and fumbled with his keys.
    
    
    
    
    
    She took it slowly and read to herself;
    
    
    
    
    
    _Forgive my Laughter._
    _I have a Condition._
    
    _MORE ON BACK_
    
    
    
    
    
    Melanie flipped the card;
    
    
    
    
    
    _It’s a medical condition causing sudden,_
    _frequent and uncontrollable laughter that_
    _doesn’t match how you feel_
    _It can happen in people with a brain_
    _injury or certain neurological conditions._
    
    _Thank You!_
    
    _KINDLY RETURN THIS CARD_
    
    
    
    
    
    After passing through the door, held open by Arthur, she quickly handed it back to him. She began to walk towards the stairs but stopped suddenly and turned towards him.
    
    
    
    
    
    “Thank you for letting me in,” she mumbled. Her eyes were glued to the floor. Thanking him after his odd behaviour was the most courteous Melanie was comfortable being in return. Her eyes trailed up to the off-white coloured paper pharmacy pouch Arthur had clutched at his side, hands hooked in his pockets before taking off. “Of course,” he said to the already fleeting girl. He watched her scatter towards the stairwell as he waited for the elevator to reach the ground floor. The rickety thing sent out a bang from somewhere above, received by Arthur’s palm striking itself against the closed elevator entry-door. 
    
    
    
    
    
    _Should have taken those stairs_ he thought.
    
    
    
    
    
    
    _What a smart girl._
    


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur counts his lucky stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have chosen to release two chapters at once to see if there is anyone interested enough for me to continue sharing. i will check back in a couple of days. please share your feelings below!
    
    
    Melanie’s high school was walking distance from the apartment. Her and Arthur often crossed paths in the morning.
    
    
    
    
    
    Since their first encounter, Arthur was longing to generate run-ins between them with insufficient accuracy. Spring and summer have never been routine for youth.
    
    
    
    
    
    He felt he had made a bad impression and he wanted to show his smart, delicate neighbour his charm. School starting again meant routine, and so Arthur fell into some luck here.
    
    
    
    
    
    For a couple of weeks, their shared trips on the elevator were silent. He learned that she lived on the floor below him and came from the right side when entering. She smelled sweetest every other morning, so she was likely showering in that pattern, using perfumed soap for lady adolescents (he had yet to figure out which one, but had plans to the next time he visited the pharmacy). She parted her hair in the middle and liked to keep it that way, combing her fingers from the roots to the tips repeatedly as an anxious tick. She preferred cotton day-dresses and trousers over jeans and suede, and always had a sweater of matching tone to keep her warm. Her cheeks glowed pink every time she sighed. Maybe he was imagining that one.
    
    
    
    
    
    —
    
    
    
    
    
      **October 10th, 1977**
    
    
    
    Arthur found out the girl knew how to say more than _good morning_ and _thank you_.
    
    
    
    
    
    Melanie held a book in her hands, specifically the novelization of _Star Wars: A New Hope_.
    “You seen the movie yet?” Arthur inquired. Melanie pulled away from her usual downward gaze to meet his eyes. “What movie?” she responded, flat, but inquisitive. “Star Wars,” Arthur continued, “… or are you reading the book first?”
    Her pursed lips broke into a little smile. “Of course I’ve seen it,” she said, “… I went with my dad the week it premiered, we were certain it had sold out completely."
    “That’s really nice,” said Arthur, “Did you like it?”
    “I did!” she blinked.
    Did he break the ice?
    
    
    
    
    
    
    The elevator stopped and the door opened. They reached ground floor.
    
    
    
    
    
    She pushed ahead towards the exit but stopped and turned to Arthur when he croaked out another question.
    “Why read the book, then?”
    “So I can relive it,” she said, “… it’s more interesting than whatever is happening around me.”
    Arthur just stared.
    A moment passed and she continued, “I’m sorry, um, I will be late for class if I don’t get going now… I’m sorry!” Melanie made an awkward turn, then shot her head back for one final look at him before pacing ahead. She smiled shyly to herself. It seemed to her that he wasn’t bad, just a little weird.
    
    
    
    
    
    —
    
    
    
    
    
    _It’s more interesting than whatever is happening around me._
    
    
    
    
    
    _How true_ , thought Arthur, on the train to work. It seemed like he had an escapist in his hands. _Avoidant of confrontation, danger, perhaps—unscathed, innocent. Who was watching over her?_ He recognized her father, but with such rare timing.
    
    
    
    
    
    The girl seemed to carry herself with such boldness from a distance, but as Arthur neared her, and she became aware of him, she _caved_. It is all performative. He smiled. 
    
    
    
    
    
    
    _His little performer._
    
     —
    
    
    
    
    
    Milky fingertips with neatly trimmed nails rippled over Arthur’s ribs. He breathed heavily, pace quickening as they trailed down towards the hem of his trousers. “Please?” a soft, ambient voice said, dark beady eyes bearing into his. They told him they were desperate to see what they have not yet seen, to discover territories uncharted. He could show them only the most beautiful things, only with his seed blooming inside this creature, fostering warmth and protection. There was no need for them to touch a hot stove get hurt if he knows the risk and knows never to expose them to the potential of it.
    They were naked now, the small, soft figure curling itself over him. Such a flawless being, with a man like him… he felt special.
    
    
    
    
    
    “Happy!”
    
    
    
    
    
    Arthur jolted awake, his hand deep in his pyjama pants of pilling fleece monochrome plaid, eyes darting to his (thankfully) locked door.
    Mother tried to twist the knob.
    “Are you asleep, Happy?”
    “Y-Yes mom, I was-I’m sorry, work was tiring. I’ll make you your dinner in just a second.”
    “That’s alright, I don’t want to rush you.”
    He heard a small thud. She was pressing her head against his door.
    “I’ll just be at the sofa!”
    “Okay, mom!”
    Finally, he heard quieting footsteps. His erection though, would not quiet.
    
    
    
    —
    
    
    
    
    
    **October 31st, 1977**
    
    
    
    
    
    Arthur had a particularly challenging Halloween gig. He was pleased to be out of work before the sun set, pleased that he did not look silly taking the public transport in his full clown attire, and especially pleased to see the girl a few feet ahead of him on the street.
    
    
    
    
    
    He followed her carefully, even though they were going to the same place. He had her at a time that was not a brief run-in in the elevator on her way to school or an admire-from-afar circumstance where her father was with her.
    
    
    
    
    
    She began unlocking the door as Arthur caught up to her.
    “Hello,” he said, simply. She glanced at him and then stared with widening eyes.
    Then, she recognized his features.
    “Oh, hello!” she pushed open the door and held it open with her back, letting him pass through. He awkwardly shuffled between her guarding the narrow threshold, his work bag brushing against her knees.
    
    
    
    
    
    “I like your costume!” she continued. Arthur felt himself blush under his greasepaint. _It’s not costume_ , he thought, _it’s my uniform_.
    “Thanks a lot! Where is yours?” he had just noticed she was bearing very regular attire — corduroy trousers with a fitted sweater. “And shouldn’t you be out, you know? It’s Halloween, don’t you have places to be?”
    They walked towards the elevator. Of course, Melanie’s eyes would look anywhere besides Arthur’s. She mumbled something along the lines of, “I didn’t have any ideas,” and then spoke up to say, “I don’t have any plans, no. It seems like a waste of time. I’m too old for most of it anyway.”
    “ _Too old?_ ” Arthur mused, “How old are you?”
    “Thirteen, sir.” They walked into the elevator. He pressed the button for his floor only.
    “And what is your name?”
    “Melanie…”
    “I’m Arthur,” he stuck his hand out for her to shake, “… it’s nice to formally meet you.” He followed her weak handshake with a comical courtesy, her hand in his large, calloused one, and kissed it right on top. She released a chaste giggle that oozed sweetly over Arthur’s ears. Her dark features squeezed in delight contrast to her light, healthy skin, cheeks a light pink, somehow visible under the flickering, green elevator light. _Creme de la creme_. She was simply a dream.
    
    
    
    
    
    He remembered he was still in costume.
    
    
    
    
    
    They retreated to their usual corners, and as the elevator beeped floor to floor, Arthur shot his shot.
    “You say you have no plans tonight, Melanie...”
    “That’s right,” she breathed.
    He pulled his wig off his head and tossed it in his bag. “Well,” he began, “I have something kind of cool to show you, but it’s in my apartment,” he continued, speaking softly, “Would you join me?”
    She stood stiffly and tilted her head a bit. 
    _Cute, she better think “yes.”_
    “Okay!” Arthur was beaming inside, smiling cordially on the outside. The elevator stopped and the doors thrusted open with their usual industrial resonance. 
    “To your left, honey.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hounds of Arthur's trap have bitten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple of notes, world-building and more...  
> 1\. i am back! i don’t know what that hiatus was... life always gets in the way, but now the internet is inescapable! i really want to work on this story so expect regular updates from now on. i am uploading two chapters at once again. your comments have been warming my heart... keep them coming <3 please stay home and stay safe everyone!  
> 2\. Arthur is not on an ideal combination of medication yet. keep this in mind while reading. this allows him to rationalize his terrible behaviour.  
> 3\. things are still a little mild here but they pick up in the next chapter, hence why this one is a little short.
    
    
    Arthur opened the door to his apartment with as little noise as possible. _Four-o-clock is mother’s nap time_. Melanie shuffled behind him nimbly, mirroring his near-silence. _Good girl, smart girl. Learns so quickly._ he thought. He turned around to her and to his absolute (internal) dismay, her face was scrunched up discontentedly. _Perhaps she is confused..._
    
    
    
    
    
    “My mom is napping in the other room,” whispered Arthur.
    “Oh, I see...” Melanie whispered back.
    He grasped Melanie’s shoulder with an utmost gentleness as he led her to the den.
    
    
    
    
    
    “We can be louder here,” he spoke in a mid tone. He began wiping his face paint off with a moist rag while Melanie gave the room a brief inspection. Her eyes wandered over the details of the wallpaper, its Victorian wooden trimming, and the wooden floor just barely showing itself from between a Tetris game of earth-toned rugs. Staring at her feet, she tapped the toes of her worn-in Mary Janes. After hanging the rag over the vanity chair, Arthur moved towards Melanie like a phantom, guiding her between the couch and the love-seat to the television set.
    
    
    
    
    
    There were some books and magazines stacked on top of each other. At the very top was a recent issue of Hammer, featuring none other than Han and Chewie side by side on the cover. Melanie’s eyes lit up when she recognized the characters, looking eagerly at Arthur as he handed it to her.
    
    
    
    
    
    “I don’t read stuff like this anymore,” his eyes watched carefully for her reaction, “... but it seems like something you could get use out of.” She beamed. _Yes!_
    
    
    
    
    
    “Really?” Melanie was bouncing on her toes now. Her father could not afford cool magazine subscriptions. She always had to speed-read them at the convenience store while her father bought cigarettes, all while making sure the clerk does not notice.
    
    
    
    
    
    It was like Arthur read her mind.
    
    
    
    
    
    “My mother hasn’t cancelled our subscription yet so I get them every month. You can visit me once a month to take my copy if you’d like."
    
    
    
    
    
    Hearing his offer, she gasped and stared forward, clutching what was now her magazine in both her hands. He could not help but smile earnestly at her excitement. 
    
    
    
    
    
    Then, she turned right back to Arthur and pulled him into a tight hug.
    
    
    
    
    
    Blood rushed to his head. He could not hug her back as her arms were wrapped around his own firmly, mummifying him in some strawberry-scented trip.
    
    
    
    
    
    “Thank you so so so much, um... Arthur! Thank you...” Melanie pulled away and flipped through the magazine at a moderate pace. She could not wait to go home and read it.
    
    
    
    
    
    Meanwhile, Arthur was recovering from Melanie’s sudden affection towards him. He felt his trousers tighten. He was definitely in some trouble. Maybe this was enough for today.
    
    
    
    
    
    He really was reading her mind.
    
    
    
    
    
    Arthur’s tone dropped to something timid, hoping he did not sound like he was evicting his poor Melanie from his hostmanship;
    “I think my mother will wake up from her nap soon, so perhaps you should find your way home, Melanie...”
    
    
    
    
    
    She looked up at him and smiled, her face glowing pink.
    
    
    
    
    
    “Okay!”
    
    
    
    
    
    Arthur noticed his rather possessive body language with Melanie, as he always guided her with his hand on her back or by her shoulders. He led her to the door, opened it, and held her wrist with the most humanly gentle grip as she faced him at the threshold.
    
    
    
    
    
    “Come by next week around this time, Melanie. The new issue should be here.” 
    “Okay, Arthur. Thank you again. You’re very generous...” her eyes trailed down. They always do.
    
    
    
    
    
    He let go of her wrist and playfully shoved her shoulder with his hand.
    
    
    
    
    
    “Be free, Melanie!”
    
    
    
    
    
    She giggled and sprinted down the hall, all too gracefully to be met with such a shrill score.
    
    
    
    
    
    “Happy! Is someone at the door?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur finally gets to playing with his doll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beware: direct sensual contact is featured in this chapter.
    
    
      **November 6th, 1977**
    
    
    
    
    
    
    “Have you seen Taxi Driver, Melanie?”
    
    
    
    
    
    “No, what’s that?”
    
    
    
    
    
    “It's a movie. Here, you can see the star right there. This is his interview page. It's my favourite movie. I’m not sure if you would like it very much though, it doesn’t seem like something a girl your age would understand.”
    
    
    
    
    
    Melanie’s hands were buried in her knit sweater. She played with the sleeves. She chewed on her shirt collar poking from under it. She had a little ribbon in her hair. She was a doll. And she was in Arthur’s lap.
    
    
    
    
    
    He licked his fingertip and turned the page.
    
    
    
    
    
    “That’s so gross!”
    
    
    
    
    
    Arthur frowned, “What?”
    
    
    
    
    
    “You licked your finger and touched _my_ magazine!”
    
    
    
    
    
    Arthur smirked the slightest bit. They locked eyes and he licked his fingertip again and smeared it on her cheek. Melanie squealed and tried to break out of his grasp, all while giggling. He had his arm secured around her waist, slapping the magazine shut to ensure more strength in holding her in place. She wiggled around a little bit before giving in. She rested her head back on his shoulder and sighed.
    
    
    
    
    
    “Open it again, please. We weren’t finished reading...”
    
    
    
    
    
    _Even when she has an attitude she never forgets her manners. How cute..._
    
    
    
    
    
    Arthur reopened the magazine randomly to a page with King Kong. Melanie began to talk on and on about it, how she saw it with her father back in her home town’s movie theatre, and of course Arthur listened, but he was growing fervorous. He was certain his erection was poking at her thigh by now, but she was too oblivious to notice. Too pure to understand what it meant. So, as she went on and on, Arthur used his free hand to rub himself lazily through his slacks.
    
    
    
    
    
    Melanie, completely incognizant to the absence of Arthur’s right hand, began to turn the pages herself. She bit her lip as she read this next page—lots of text. Arthur rubbed himself quicker. Then, she caught him totally off guard.
    
    
    
    
    
    “What’s a _transvestite_?”
    
    
    
    
    
    Arthur snapped out of his trance and, using his naughty hand, brushed his hair out of his face anxiously. 
    
    
    
    
    
    “I’m sorry, pumpkin?”
    
    
    
    
    
    “It says here that the main character in Rocky Horror Picture Show is a _transvestite_. I don’t know what that means and I thought maybe you would know...”
    
    
    
    
    
    Arthur chuckled, “Well, that’s an adult-only word, first of all,” Melanie huffed, but she looked anxious, liked she was worried she disappointed him.
    
    
    
    
    
    “... but if you promise not to use it I will tell you what it means.”
    
    
    
    
    
    Melanie nodded. Arthur continued.
    
    
    
    
    
    “Say it, pumpkin.”
    
    
    
    
    
    “I promise I won’t use that word ever again.”
    
    
    
    
    
    “How will you prove your promise to me?”
    
    
    
    
    
    She thought for a moment. Then, she held up her pinky.
    
    
    
    
    
    “No, see, adult promises are a lot more serious than that. You have to seal the promise in a different way...”
    
    
    
    
    
    Arthur began to sweat a bit. He was really trying his best to sound persuasive. He could hardly believe how easily this was all coming to him. How easily she fell for everything.
    
    
    
    
    
    Melanie was staring at him entirely puzzled. 
    
    
    
    
    
    “I’ll show you how to do it, and then you can do it back. Okay?”
    
    
    
    
    
    She nodded slowly.
    
    
    
    
    
    Tilting her chin up, he pressed his lips on hers. Of course, hers did not move. He felt his cock twitch before he pulled away.
    
    
    
    
    
    “A kiss?” she whispered.
    
    
    
    
    
    “Why... yes,” Arthur replies.
    
    
    
    
    
    “That was my first kiss,” she said, almost indigently.
    
    
    
    
    
    Arthur did not know whether to feel honoured or gutted by this.
    
    
    
    
    
    Who was he kidding—this was his mission. He was going to be all of her firsts. He was going to show her the way.
    
    
    
    
    
    “Melanie,” he began.
    
    
    
    
    
    She looked so lost...
    
    
    
    
    
    “You have to do it to me now. To seal the promise. It’s _your_ promise to make, isn’t it?” She nodded. Then, she leaned up towards his face, rather confidently, pressing her lips on his. It definitely felt like a virgin kiss. It was all he ever wanted.
    
    
    
    
    
    When she pulled away, she noticed the magazine had fallen between their legs down to the floor. She looked back at Arthur and tilted her head.
    
    
    
    
    
    He raised an eyebrow at her.
    
    
    
    
    
    “So what does it mean?”
    
    
    
    
    
    “Oh—right! Um... _transvestite_...” Arthur chuckled, “... it’s a man who really, really likes dressing like a lady. I mean you saw the movie, right, Melanie? You saw that it was a man in lady’s clothes?”
    
    
    
    
    
    “I did, but I wasn’t sure. So it’s on purpose?”
    
    
    
    
    
    “What is?”
    
    
    
    
    
    “That he will look like that?”
    
    
    
    
    
    “Yes, it’s on purpose. There are many unusual things that make people feel good. They can make you feel really, really good. Do you know anything like that for you, Melanie? Something that you think is unusual that makes you feel good?”
    
    
    
    
    
    “Um... I don’t know...”
    
    
    
    
    
    “That’s okay,” Arthur smiled, “We are going to discover those things together.”


End file.
